In Praise of the Ugly Duckling
by Ladyfun
Summary: For the QLFC. Dorcas has felt like the proverbial ugly duckling her entire life; her time at Hogwarts only compounding that dread. Worse, her longtime crush is the unattainable, attractive, and outgoing Griffyndor, Marlene McKinnon. Surely, Marlene is too involved with her friends to notice someone as introverted as she…until one fateful day that will change her life forever.
1. Chapter 1

**Author: Ladyfun**

**Pairing:** Dorcas Meadowes/Marlene McKinnon

**Rating**: Generally T

**Disclaimers:** All of this (Ladyfun gesturing big wide circles over the computer with her hand) belongs to J.K. Rowling. I own nothing, and this is all for non-profit fun.

**SUMMARY**: For the QLFC.

Dorcas has felt like the proverbial ugly duckling her entire life; her time at Hogwarts only compounding that dread. Worse, her longtime crush is the unattainable, attractive, and outgoing Griffyndor, Marlene McKinnon. Marlene is too involved with her friends Lily, James, and Siruis to notice someone as introverted as she…until one fateful day that will change her life forever.

**A/N: **Written for Round 5 /Season 2 of the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition. Position is Beater 2 for the Wigtown Wanderers. Prompt: First Date. Optional prompts used: 1. (quote) No pessimist ever discovered the secrets of the stars, or sailed to an uncharted land, or opened a new heaven to the human spirit. Helen Keller 2. (word) frostbite 3. (word) pristine

* * *

**Round 5 - Some Love for the Early Exiters**

Title/Link: **In Praise of the Ugly Duckling**

Team: **Wigtown Wanderers (Dorcas Meadowes)**

Position: **BEATER 2/ First Date**

* * *

Dorcas had become a skilled observer of life.

That's what happens when one is not a participant; they fall into the the category of either completely oblivious, or overly observant.

She wasn't always so introverted. Her family had moved to England when she was nine years old from what had been her happy life in Greece with her boisterous extended family to the prim and proper society life of England, due to her father's promotion. Being an only child, she missed her cousins and aunts and uncles, and the joy of life that Greeks possessed. The pureblood circles they ran in nowadays were as much fun as putting a fork into your eyeball; and her mother was constantly worried about how Dorcas would embarrass her. She liked nature, exercise, reading; she didn't like parties, or doing her hair, and worst of all, She wouldn't join in on "mudblood" baiting. Her sense of fairness quickly earned her the nickname "Dork-Ass" from her peers. She was met with a cool reception after one horrid day she spoke up when three purebloods were ganging up on a muggle-born exchange student; after that, she practically got frostbite when she tried to enter any games or conversations following her act of social justice.

Instead of commending her for standing up for the battered boy, her mother advised her to "try to fit in, a little better, for once, Dorcas!" She told her only child that she was creating unnecessary challenges for her family to get acclimated in proper society.

When she got her letter from Hogwarts, both her parents had a visible sigh of relief. They were prepared to donate heavily to Beauxbaton's to get her in; but somehow, she managed to secure a spot, despite her less than stellar social skills and her progressively introverted personality.

She had hoped that Hogwarts would provide her a different life, or at least a small reprieve from her loneliness.

At first it looked promising. All the horrid children of her parent's acquaintances were sorted into Slytherin; miraculously she was sorted into Hufflepuff. But at the end of her first year, she had her growth spurt and went through puberty, becoming as physically awkward as she felt inside; no one else had gotten their period yet – and she was a constant source of teasing, although it was much kinder by the loyal Hufflepuffs, at least.

Oddly enough, it was the boisterous Gryffindors that were the kindest of all to her. She remembers vividly two of the prettiest girls in her year, Lily Evans, and Marlene McKinnon telling a group of Slytherin girls to "sod off" when they were playing with her maxipad case, playing keep away with it in the bathroom. Marlene had extended her long, elegant arm, and intercepted the case with lightening quick reflexes, handing it back to the mortified Hufflepuff. She winked at the bright red Dorcas, whispering, "Hey, we'll all be needing these, soon enough, right? Except for Alicita, over there," the blonde Gryffindor said, pointing to the meanest Slytherin. "…because she's _secretly a man_, and will _never _menstruate." Dorcas laughed, for the first time, that afternoon.

Lily finished up giving them all a verbal tongue lashing and the Slytherins sulked out of the room.

"Chin up…er, _what's your name, _ again?" Lily asked.

"Dorcas. Dorcas Meadowes." She whispered.

"Well, chin up Dorcas." Lily smiled.

The beautiful blonde Gryiffindor next to Lily grinned again. "Yeah! Besides, you're like a foot taller than all of them – you should kick their Slytherin bums next time! Bye the bye, I'm Marlene – but everyone calls me Marny-and this here is Perfect Lily Evans, who is going to be late to her first class ever if we don't hurry up!"

"Oh, bloody hell! Thanks Marny! See you around, Dorcas."

She watched, wistfully, as the two Gryiffindors bustled out of the bathroom, running towards their next class. She envied them – their grace, their camraidare, just their joy de vivre in general. She would grow to envy something else, asl well: That night, she had her first dream filled with blond hair, and long arms, and the girl with the infectious smile.

**XOXOXOXO**

It wasn't until their second year she would have her next run in with Marny. During the Care of Magical creatures class , she observed the goings on, as she usually did, from the back of the class. The teacher was slightly overwhelmed during the hands on portion of their session with Fire Crabs; Marny was in deep concentration, trying to coax her Fire Crab into behaving, and didn't realize four Slytherin boys, two from her neighborhood, had snuck up behind her, and turned their crabs backwards facing Marny, which Dorcas found curious. She followed their line of sight when they started backing away; off to the side, she saw a fifth boy aiming his wand towards the crabs to hex them.

She knew what would happen if they got attacked and agitated; they would shoot a scalding flame from their bum, hitting Marny squarely on her backside!

With an agonized "No!" She lept into action, sprinting at full speed. She lept over the chairs, pushing Marny away from the crabs as the hex was fired off. In a blaze of fire and explosions, Dorcas didn't realize what happened, only feeling a pain so intense she passed out on the spot.

When she came to, she saw the curious faces of her bunkmate from Hufflepuff, and five Gryffindors, oddly enough, sitting by her bedside.

Her bunkmate Elese just looked worried, but the Gryffindors looked … grim. Grim and determined. She knew Lily and Marny, of course, but didn't know the boys. Marny quickly introduced them. James Potter. Remus Lupin. And Sirius Black.

She recognized James from Quiddich matches she had watched, and she vaguely recalled Sirius from some balls she had been forced to go to. It was he that spoke first.

"That was a pretty idiotic thing you did, Meadowes. Its not everyday a Pureblood sacrifices themselves for a half-blood, y'know." Sirus said, gesturing towards her badly scalded leg.

She swallowed.

"Sure you're not a Gryffindor?" James said, with a grin.

"What's wrong with Hufflepuff?" Her bunkmate said , irritated.

Lily quickly interjected. "Nothing. Besides, I think Dorcas showed she's a true Hufflepuff. Loyal and kind. You were really amazing, doing what you did. I saw you leaping over chairs faster than James, here, ever caught the Snich. It was amazing!"

"Yes," Interjected the cerebral Remus. "You really earned your name….Did you know your name means Gazelle?"

"I did not." Dorcas croaked out.

Marny, who had been quiet the entire time, finally spoke. "So…so you're a pureblood?" She asked, quietly.

Sirus laughed. "Blimey, McKinnon? Where've you been? Yes, from one of the oldest lines in Greece! The Meadowes are bloody loaded!"

"Oh." She said, quietly, looking down, frowning.

James was laughing. "Yeah, old Dork-Ass and Siriusly Mental here are the two that got away from Slythern! Slytherin refugees."

"Your family…were Slytherins?" Lily said, in disbelief.

"yes, the ones that didn't go to Drumstrang or Beauxbatons, that is." Dorcas said, uncomfortable with all the attention on her.

"Is that why they Slytherin girls are so mean to you, all the time?" Her bunkmate said, with sudden realization.

"I guess. That, and I wouldn't let them beat a muggle born exchange student to death when I was ten."

Sirus let out a low whistle. "Dangerous! I like you, Meadowes!"

The newly appointed Nurse Pomfrey came around, shooing out Dorcas' visitors, informing them she had to graft and debrede Dorcas' leg, again, and insisting on her resting. Everyone shuffled out – save one.

Marny McKinnon.

"I never said thank you, Dorcas. So..thank you." Marny said, quietly. "I feel terrible…you're going to have scars, for life…"

Dorcas shrugged. "Eh, no biggie. Besides, I never said thank you, either."

"thank you…to me? What on earth for?"

_For being so impossibly beautiful, that's what…_ Dorcas thought to herself.

Blinking, she said, "For…um, rescuing my feminine protection, you know."

The blonde Gryffindor looked at her like she was insane. "Merlin's beard! You're not serious…are you?" She laughed, outright.

Her laugh was magnificent. So pristine, so joyous, so perfect…just like her.

Dorcas followed her out, when Nurse Pomfrey finally banished her from the ward. Smiling, she said, "You've got it bad, dear."

"What?"

Madame Pomfrey looked at her incredulously. "You sustained third degree burns, on 20% of your body for that girl. That's typically what's known as "you've got it bad" means." She said with a smirk, as she went to work.

**XOXOXOXOX**

Marny became a regular fixture in the infirmary, even helping Madame Pomfrey from time to time. Dorcas was happy, for the first time in her teenage years in the two weeks it took to recover.

It was Marny that helped her carry all her belongings back to Hufflepuff tower, and Marny who patiently stacked everything away.

It came time to go, after they devoured the "congratulations" chocolates that the Gryffindor contingent had bought for her. As Marny was leaving, she noticed a wadded up parchment she had missed in Dorcas' bag.

"What's this?"

"Nothing!" The embarrassed Hufflepuff said, snatching it out of her friend's hands. "Its just a letter from home."

Unexpectedly, tears immediately welled up in Dorcas' eyes.

"Dorcas!" Marny said, alarmed, scooping the girl up in her arms. She sat her down on the bed, and said, "you're really upset. Can I read it?"

Marny was genuinely concerned, and ever so gentle with her friend.

Dorcas nodded, glumly, handing it over. She watched as Marny's beautiful face quickly dissolved into confusion, and then anger.

"Bloody hell!" She looked at Dorcas. "How do you deal with these…these…"

"My parents?" Dorcas said, glumly.

"I don't believe this! Reprimanding you for getting those slags from Slytherin in trouble! They should be commending their brave daughter!"

Dorcas looked down at the floor, saying nothing.

"Did they, Dorcas?"

"Did they what?"

"Did they commend you, for what you did? For saving me?"

The taller girl just sighed. "Look, my family…purebloods, in general, have sort of a different set of …ethical values than the rest of the world. I did something shameful. I ratted out some of my parents' friends children."

Now Marnie was tearful, and sat next to her friend. Placing her hands on either side of her face, she spoke, passionately.

"_They're wrong,_ Dorcas. You're worth so much more than that! You're worth more they they will ever be."

"I hope so." She sighed. Her stomach was in knots, with the proximity of her longtime crush next to her.

It was almost too much.

"Marny, I'm…I'm kind of tired. Do you mind…?"

It was Marny's turn to blush. "I'm so sorry, I'm being a real prat! Of course you're exhausted. "

She stood and turned to leave, pausing at the door to issue a sad smile.

"Good night, Dork." She teased. "Thanks…for being you."

"What choice do I have?"

Marny shut the door, gently, as Dorcas continued to smile at the door, staring at it long after the beautiful Gryffindor had left the room.

**XOXOXOXOXO**

By her fourth year, things had turned the corner for Dorcas Meadows. She had friends. _Real friends._ Most importantly, she had a best friend.

And that best friend had become something else, indeed. Marny had blossomed into an even more beautiful woman, if that was even possible.

Any time a slag from Slytherin would threaten her, calling her a blood trader, she could laugh it off, now. Even when that bint Rupert Travers said the Dark Lord would_ personally_ come get her for betraying her kind, turning her back on such a wealthy and prominent pureblood lineage as the _House of Meadowes, _ she could simply roll her eyes, nowadays.

It didn't bother her, anymore.

On one of their many weekends out together with the posse, James and Sirius had converted her into a Quiddich player, after discovering her speed and athleticism, and skill on a broom. After a few hours, she was almost as good as they were.

The boys strong-armed Hank Diggorey, the Hufflepuff Quiddich captain, into giving her a mid-season tryout; the Hufflepuffs regarded her warily as she was practically a card carrying Gryffindor now, at this point. However, she was undeniably good, and a new member was added to the team.

Diggorey would later buy Potter and Black Butterbeers for a month.

Over time, Dorcas became one of the _best chasers_ that Hufflepuff had ever had. It didn't hurt she had the galleons to buy the fastest broom available, either, for her and the entire team. She had also grown into her body, and was as tall as most of the boys in the school, with a wingspan that was unheard of, in a female.

By the time their seventh year rolled around, ironically, the championship that year came down to Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, with Dorcas essentially carrying the team. Peter Pettegrew threatened to behead James and Sirius for giving Hufflepuff the ammunition to kill them with via Dorcas Meadows.

With ten seconds left in the game, Hufflepuff's star chaser threw the Quaffle in the deciding goal, giving the black and gold the lead. Hufflepuff was headed towards its_ first ever _school championship.

That is, until James Potter caught the snitch with _three seconds_ remaining.

Marny, understanding her friend's conflicted feelings, opted to walk with Dorcas around the lake instead of celebrate in the Gryffindor common room. They spread out a picnic blanket, and drank their own private butterbeers under the stars, laughing and enjoying their private moment.

Marny giggled out of the blue.

"What?" Dorcas said.

"What _what_?" Marny repeated, laughing harder.

_"__What are you laughing about_, goof?"

Marny sighed, congenially, looking at the stars above them. "I was actually thinking, this is the _best date_ I've had in a long time."

Dorcas looked over at the Gryffindor, shyly. "Is that what this is, Marny? Is this.. a date?"

Marny paused, propping herself up on one arm. "Do you want it to be?" She asked, quietly. Although nervous, she did possess that famous Gryffindor bravery, and her gaze was unwavering.

Dorcas averted her intense gaze, chosing instead to look up at the stars, thinking hard. She felt Marny's eyes and an unexpected warmth filling her entire body.

After a long pause, she said quietly. "I don't know…I've never _been _on a date. I don't know what that entails, exactly."

She looked at the beautiful woman leaning over her, and said, nervously. "Marny, I'm not going to lie. I don't know what to do…I'm a little afraid, really."

Marny grinned. "You know, there was a famous muggle named Helen Keller who once said, '_No pessimist ever discovered the secrets of the stars, or sailed to an uncharted land, or opened a new heaven to the human spirit' _Don't be afraid. Just…go for it!"

"Go for it? Meaning what?"

"Oh! Well, I can answer that." Marny said, as she leaned closer towards her friend, who was trembling. "Meaning _this_." She leaned in, all the way, gently grazing her lips against the surprised ones of her longtime friend, which eventually kissed her back.

Marny pulled away, arching her eyebrows as she looked at Dorcas, as if to say, "_well?"_

_Nurse Pomfrey was right...she did have it bad!_ Thought the Hufflepuff to herself. She then smiled, a goofy, enamored smile, and commented with a sigh:

"Best first date_... ever."_

Then, with the wing span she was so famous for, she reached up, pulling the Gryffindor down gently, kissing her again.


	2. The Education of the Privileged

**Author**: Ladyfun

**Title: Educating the Children of Rulers, Priests, and Nobels. **

**Pairing**:

**Rating:** Generally K+

**Disclaimers:** All of this (Ladyfun gesturing big wide circles over the computer with her hand) belongs to J.K. Rowling. I own nothing, and this is all for non-profit fun. And I sure as heck don't own Quiddich.

**SUMMARY:** For the Quiddich League Fanfiction competition/Round 11?. The little white lies that we tell ourselves in order to get through the day can come crashing down around one so fast, one can't breathe. Ron is about to learn exactly how that feels as he enters his first job following "The Big One."

**A/N #1:** Written for Round 11 /Season 2 of the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition. Position is Sub for Chaser 3 for the Wigtown Wanderers. Chaser 3 prompt: Law Enforcement

**A/N #2**: OPTIONAL PROMPTS: 1. (restriction) No word said 2. (word) destiny 3. (word) information

**Random technicality: I can't post new fanfics, it would appear, so I am posting it in another spot in one of the old stories. Sorry if there's confusion.**

* * *

**Title: Educating the Children of Rulers, Priests, and Nobels. **  
Round 11/Dancing through the Years  
Position: Beater 2- Prompt: Year 503/A Day At School  
Team: Wigtown Wanderers

* * *

"What's this?" Hermione uttered, a mysterious large package arriving wrapped in the finest golden paper arriving to her stoop by owl. "Who sent this?" she asked the owl, but it was too late. He had already departed.

Hermione reached to open the ornately wrapped gift, until a firm grasp on her shoulder caused her pause.

"S'il vous plait, ma belle..." came the soothing voice of her spouse, and Head Auror, Fleur Delacour.

"Always working." Grumbled the former Gryffindor.

"Non...just want to make sure my precious cargo stays in one piece, zat is all." After performing a series of counter-enchantements and hex breakers, Auror Delacour was satisfied that the package was safe, and gave her wife the nod.

"Open."

Hermione's eager hands ripped open the packaging, causing her bride to chuckle. Hermione's eyes widened, as she read the inscription on the front inlay of the ancient book. It was a rare, never-before seen, 1st edition printing of Hogwarts: A History.

"Mon Dieu!" Fleur gasped.

Hermione's face went white as she read the inscription on the inside of the book. Vaguely familiar penmanship taunted her, and when she realized who the inscription was from, she became even whiter, if that was possible.

_Dearest Muddy,  
If you are reading this, that means things went horribly wrong in the war; all I have to say in that regards is damn, damn, damn! I can't envision how that happened, but then again, I can't believe my longstanding records for O.W.L.S. set in 1959 was beat by a stupid mudblood 28 years later who happened to be very intelligent and earned my respect. (I suspect you know to whom I am referring...Granger.) I'm sure you're probably a big reason that those two sniveling pubescent lunatics found their way out of a paper bag in the first place.  
I have left strict instructions in the event we lost and you won, and I died and you lived, that this be delivered to you upon your 21st birthday. So...happy fucking birthday, Muddy! It's too bad your blood was so impure, I have to say, there was only one other person that loved this book as much as I did. As much as I hate to admit it, that person happens to be you.  
However, this is a very special edition. This tells the real beginnings of Hogwarts, and is from my family's library. When you read further, you'll understand why we own this; it was later revised by my great-great grandfather, who was none to pleased by the role of slaves in our family's origins. Everyone has skeletons, I suppose. I would prefer that you keep this private, Granger, but it is a gift, and you are free to do with it as you wish.  
Finally, as a parting bit of advice: enjoy the book, and appreciate your gifts. Knowledge is the only thing that matters, in the end.  
Respectfully,  
Bellatrix Black_

_P.S. For what it's worth, if you haven't already done so, don't marry that red-headed Weasel! He's not even deserving of washing your laundry. Go for his sister, or some other hot witch. Follow your destiny. If you haven't figured it out, you were way into me, Granger, and you like women! Don't sell yourself short, like I did. As I have clearly demonstrated, life is short. Hopefully you didn't kill me, because if you did, well...I want my book back! Only kidding. Keep it, and live well, Hermione Granger._  
_BB_

Hermione looked up, a tempest of emotions going through her. Even dead, Bellatrix Black could still affect her. She cleared her throat.

"Well, she had me pegged, huh?" Hermione mused, tactfully, noticing the jealous fury percolating dangerously close to the surface on her Veela mate. "But, wow, she really got it wrong. I was never into her... I _swear_!"

Fleur had a very measured tone. "I 'ope for your sake, 'ermione, zat iz true..." huffed the disgruntled Frenchwoman.

Hermione groaned, but pulled the heavy tomb to her lap. It was ornate and the embossed letters alone were stunning. The book was simply, in a word, astounding. It was Hermione's dream come true.

"Why don't we read a little of this, shall we?" Hermione continued, nervously. Her precise intonation filled the room, as she started the first chapter, aloud...

**XOXOXOXOX**

_As read from the 1st Edition Printing:_

It was often misconstrued that the origins of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry began in the 10th century. That is an incorrect assumption.

It is when the first formal recording and public declaration of the school became official; however, the truth of the matter is that it had been operating in secret for centuries prior to the formal recording. It was a school that was kept alive by word of mouth and was started by a dedicated Greek slave, that adored his little student, named Morgana, on or around the year 503 _Anno Domini._ It was started as a place of refuge, where those who were different and perhaps not up to the standards of modern society, could learn and obtain an education without fear.

It began as a safe haven for magical folks to learn, in an environment free of persecution.

The story begins during a very troubled time. The onset of war in the Roman empire against the Persians had ransacked the majority of the eligible school age males; sadly, the year that had seen so much bloodshed would be the first of many long years to come of war waged between the Persians and the Romans. The reasons were irrelevant; the inability to define the borders and the relationship between the two empires were at the heart of the entirety of the conflict. Truthfully there was enough land and bounty to go around many times; the two heard headed empires would not come to that realization until much later, in 567 AD.

The wars had a cost that went beyond trade, commerce, and gold, however. The disruption to society and the evolution of civilization would take a back seat to hostility.

Yet, somehow, the informal school on the Western border of the land had still managed to scrape by; granted, it solidified its standing of the backs of former Greek slaves who had a penchant for learning and teaching to to the majority of its formal schooling.

How_ ironic_ that the slaves would be the one teaching the class of nobility deemed suitable to receive an education: children of rulers, priests, and nobility.

The "privileged" class.

However, the love of learning had been deeply ingrained into the fabric that comprised the Greek souls, who grew to love their charges. Knowledge, and the free exchange of information, was a value embedded into their very DNA; to not teach, to not learn...that would be the tragedy. More so than enslavement, even. So the first concession of the Roman elite was to allow the slave class, although highly educated, to teach their children.

The second allowance of the Romans would be to allow the daughters of the locals families to enroll them in the school while the sons were deployed to keep the numbers up. It was on the first day of the informal school year in 502 that a young girl would begin her first vestiges of formal learning. Within an inconspicuous little cluster of children interested in learning, one stood out. There was no child as conspicuous as Morgana Black, the future namesake to her famous granddaughter, Morgan Le Fay. Her granddaughter would be widely regarded as the nucleus of the future bloodline that would become the famous pure-blooded lineage of the Black family, of England.

However, Morgana Black, herself was the furthest thing from legendary. While she was pretty and drew a crowd to her, she was lonely and interested in pleasing those around her. She would often wander to the stream and help Titus, the Greek slave assigned to her class, with his daily chores. He could dissuade her as much as possible, the fact of the matter was, she was lonely. She stayed long after other kids had gone home; her parents were both often gone on long journeys to other faraway lands as they were the senior states persons for the region and frequently handled affairs of the state for the emperor.

They were important people indeed, and could not be bothered with a small child.

Titus seemed to be the only soul patient enough for the curious child; he constantly challenged her. On one trip back from washing the school linens, he watched flabbergasted as the linens folded themselves.

"Great Ceaser! What is this witchcraft?" He gasped.

As quickly as he uttered it, the linen fell to the Earth.

"I'm sorry!" Morganna Black apologized. "It's just...you had such a large load...and I didn't want you to fall behind...I...I just used my specially powers to help it go faster!" She wailed.

He hugged her. "Oh, child! You did nothing wrong, nothing! But," He whispered, looking around furtively. "Don't show anyone else! They wouldn't understand it's a gift!"

"What's a gift?"

"Why, your _magical ability_, child!" With a wink, he wandlessly spelled the rest of the linen into his basket, causing Morgana's eyes to widen in kind.

"Titus...you..." She murmured, unable to finish.

He pulled her into a hug. "Shhh. Be still, little blessed one. Do not fear. It has been my job, all along, to cultivate your talent _when and if_ it presented itself. Fear not. I'm here for you."

"But how?"

"Your father. He knew this day would come, and he sent for me. Don't worry. He has made other provisions, as well, little one, I promise."

**XOXOXOXOOXO**

They never spoke of it again, until the next year, in 503 A.D. Once upon a time, in earlier times, the Roman empire had viewed witches and wizards as equals to mortals, or close to it; but magic was quickly falling out of favor and looked down upon by the Empire at present.

And on that twelfth day of school, on 503 A.D., it was a hot day, and lessons had been particularly tedious. Morgan Black had excelled, and had completed her entire allotment of work completed, she festered in the corner wondering how her fellow students and "privileged set" could be so damn boring.

She twirled her black ringlet in her hands, tied in the patrician upsweep famous in her time; and send her piercing black eyes on a blond girl in her class.

Ugh. Agrippiea Mendonzia, the most foul of the foul. She couldn't stand even looking at her! The little snark had been quick to tell their teacher that it was Morgan who put the snap beans in the new teacher's tunic. Really, what use in telling that information was there? She mused. Tattle tell!

But that day was infamous for the sheer fact the previously far away notion that there was war distantly around them came dangerously close to home. Persian soldiers stormed their town, and burned most of the city to the ground to send a message. They looted, and killed all who they came into contact with; however, Titus would not let that happen to his prized pupil.

He scooped her up, and she felt the nauseating feeling of whooshing through time and space; a feeling that would later be formally dubbed "apparating."

She landed with a thud, somewhere altogether...different.

"Where is this?" She wondered, aloud, as she gazed up at the daunting spires of a magnificent castle that seemed to reach the sky.

Titus chuckled. "It is no consequence. The borders are hidden." He grabbed her hand and they started walking towards a large castle looking building up ahead.

"Wow...what is that?" She asked.

"Morgana, welcome to your new school. Welcome to Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, a school where you will be taught how to use your magic, not conceal it. Welcome to your first day of school."

She smiled brightly, until she saw next to her, an equally dazed Agrippiea Mendonzia.

Seeing her mortal enemy, she sighed. "Craptastic." She swore under her breath.

Well, life isn't always a fairy tale, now is it? Along with the sunshine, there's bound to be a little rain sometimes, as well.

Thus began the _true_ start of the greatest school for magic ever known, Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, built in the 6th century by patron saints, the largest donation of course from the esteemed House of Black in the year 503 A.D.

From the downfall of one of the proudest Roman cities rose up the endowed school for the children that were just a little bit different.

**XOXOXOXOXO**

Hermione read the altered version of her favorite book many, many times; especially during her pregnancy that was quite difficult. She was put on bed rest at 5 months, and that was the equivalent of water boarding torture to the active witch.

She put it up once their lively son was born; he was everywhere, all at once. Etonne Granger Delacour had the distinct traits of having his mother's beauty and his mother's brains...and it was a deadly combination. Multiple tutors had thrown their hands up, crying out he was positively beyond help, and Hermione secretly feared he would be too much of a handful for Hogwarts.

That was, however, until an unexpected knock on their front door happened that day, seven years to the day of his birth.

"Hello, Madame Granger, Madame Delacour." The well-dressed gentleman waltzed in, placing his bowler cap on their coat rack. He surveyed the room, seemingly displeased, murmuring about "too many distractions."

"Excuse me? You are...?" Hermione quickly offered, attempted to diffuse the attack posture Fleur had assumed in their living room.

He looked at her incredulously. "Who am I? Really?" He looked around the room, warily. "Where is he?"

"And who might sat be, Monsieur?" Fleur growled, dangerously low in tone.

He rolled his eyes. "Mr. Etonne, of course!"

Bounding around from the corner, he giggled. "Ditty bag! Ditty Bag!"

"Etonne Granger Delacour!" Hermoine huffed.

"Aw, Ma!" He whined.

The stranger struck him on the backside of his head, looking directly at him. "Young man, that is the last time you will disrespect your mothers, in my presence! Do you understand?"

He gulped. "And you are...?"

"My name is Mr. Titus Magister," He explained, rather impatiently. "I have been sent to ... mold...the young man who is to become the most powerful wizard in England, such as it is. However, he is currently little more than a disgrace, a borderline juvenile delinquent, at present...or so I am told. Is that true?"

"Who said that?" The young boy clenched his fists.

He waved his hands. "That is of no consequence. What matters is that we begin our studies. I have been doing this for a long time, young man, and have had more clever witches and wizards than you try to fool me."

By way of example, Titus pulled the "Fantastic Exploding Zonker" from Weasley's Joke Shop hidden in his pocket by the young wizard and exploded it in his hand. "I assure you, if Morgan Le Fay and Bellatrix Black couldn't fool me, you Sir, will not be able to, either. Shall we begin?"

Hermione and Fleur looked at each other, equal parts flabbergasted and grateful.

Hermione couldnt help thinking to herself, _somewhere, right now, Bellatrix Black is laughing her ass off. _

**FIN**


End file.
